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GrandChildren |
Ce'Leste D'Riel
Va'Lan D'Riel
An'Lin D'Riel
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The echo of heavy boots preceded the S’Hean King’s decent into the subterranean chamber beneath the D’Riel retreat. A sudden clank of glass and a growled expletive followed before Ro reached the bottom of the stairs, bouncing drunkenly off of the wall and grunting in disgust. Pausing, he rubbed at his forehead with damp fingertips and shoved his unruly fringe of chestnut hair out of darkened green eyes. The pendant on his chest flared softly for a moment, the angry roiling red mist within the stone appearing agitated, and more alive than it had in years.
The combination of alcohol and stimulants had him fairly vibrating on the edge of a mental implosion, caught somewhere between numb and extremely high, the pain was hard to put a finger on. It kept… moving, like elusive prey, which was just fine with Ro considering that was just how he liked them. For a while at least… it lengthened the game. Of course… it was one he had not played in a very long time, and considering the state of his land and people… he likely never would again.
Death had never frightened him, he had walked its chill corridors before, it was the utter failure to save those he loved that was tearing him apart.
“All right B’Rodyn,” he muttered to his dead Cousin, “You left me your eyes… now where exactly should I be looking? I suppose this would be easier… were I not seeing three of everything.”
'Strung out' was probably the best description of Ghet's mood. She wasn't angry, just very agitated, and arriving in S'Hea to discover that Ro had moved hadn't exactly relaxed her. The fact that she'd managed to track him through the Web without him realising what she was doing meant that he was pretty badly messed up.
"Underground," she muttered. "Of course. It's always bloody caves. I must be out of my freaking mind. Oh, that's right, I am." She giggled, rather hysterically, and set off after Y'Roden. She couldn't reason; her heart just burned and ached for him. She had once known him so well, and if he was still the same man, then the self-destructive slide would be long and very fast.
Sounds travelled out to her, bouncing off stone, and she realised that Ro was going to hear her coming, and that Ro was bloody unpredictable, and that Ro was enormously strong. "Y'Roden?" she called softly. "It's me. Um. Surprise."
There was silence for the space of several heartbeats, probably more as the half-elf tried to decide whether he was hearing things or not. It wouldn’t have been the first time his mind had played tricks on him. It wouldn’t have been the first time he had held a conversation with himself either though.
“Ghettie?” The query was low, his gravely baritone rolling up the stairs, disbelief clear in his tone.
Ghet worked her way down towards him, her eyes quickly adapting to the dimness. Now she was here, now he was in front of her, she simply didn't know what to say. Her face said a lot of it for her, compassion naked in her expression. She wanted to hold him, but even now, they walked such a delicate balance. "Rodi. Foxx and Marius... told me. I had to see you. Are you drunk? Of course you are. You're going to do yourself an injury swaying around up there. Sit down. Gods, don't look so surprised. You had to know I was going to come."
He simply stared for a moment, not quite believing his eyes until he picked up the scent of Ginseng. He blinked, stumbled back against the wall, and choked as a burbling, hysterical laugh rumbled through his chest.
“No,” he managed through a gasp of air, “I didn’t. I don’t know anything anymore. Well, I do know something, I know I’m dying… I know that I’m killing everyone I love in the process. I know that. I’d rather forget. The Brandy helps with that.” He looked away from her, his fingers scratching in irritation at the striking raven on his bicep, “some of the time.” Scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand he drew a shuddering breath, “Why? Why did you have to see me?”
Ghet reminded herself sternly that punching him was just going to hurt her hand. Yes, she'd entertained the thought that it was his fault, what was happening to her, but hearing him say it took away all its truth. "Well, maybe," she said, her voice low and wavering a little, "if you took a moment to remember what I'm actually like? Instead of what your wife keeps telling you I'm like? You wouldn't be so surprised." She took a step towards him, and hesitated. "Because I care about you, you idiot. I can't bear to think of you in pain. Because I love you and I bloody well know you backwards and I KNEW you were going to blame yourself for this." She was unable to stop the reality of her anger and frustration flowing out of her. Bloody caves.
She tried to take a steadying breath, but he was just so bloody infuriating. "Yes, you've done things wrong. Yes, you've deliberately hurt me. Blame yourself for that. But not for this. This is not your fault. You are dying and I don't want you to die and I don't want me die and we are damn well going to stop it." She scrubbed a hand over her eyes, suddenly wet. "Ro, love, please don't do this to yourself. Please."
“Maybe I just don’t remember,” the words were low, barely audible, “Maybe I’ve just blocked it out, and maybe… just maybe, I need to blame myself. It would all damn well serve me right, now wouldn’t it? All of it, every bloody heart ripping, soul stomping, flesh rending moment of my life has been a just punishment for what I did to my own people. Do you think I don’t know its me. I see through his eyes Ghet, I feel what he feels… I can’t control it, so all I can think is that there is some part of me that wants it. So yeah, I deserve to die, and as painfully as this is going to end up being too. But why the HELLS,” a heave of a heavily muscled shoulder toppled a stone obelisk set near the wall and sent it crashing across the stone floor, “do the Fates think its so Gods Damn funny to kill everyone else too.”
Crimson stained emerald eyes met denim blue, the first vestiges of rage taking hold. “I should have left you alone, I should have done right by Sum… I should have just laid down and died when that Manticore poisoned me… but I couldn’t, because the thought of taking Arianne with me was to much to bear. So you suffered instead… and ironically, Thorn suffered more as a result than if I had just died.”
She watched his temper build, and the red flow into his eyes, and oddly Ghet wasn't afraid. Perhaps her own anger protected her, or maybe she just knew he had to go through this to come out the other side. "What, so NOW you've decided there should be justice in the universe? We both know there isn't. Shit happens. Shit happens disproportionately to us. You are not grand arbiter of everything, you're not the soul and the cause. I took you because I wanted you, and don't you dare tell me you can't remember. I don't believe you. You remember every damn minute we had, just like I do. All the pain and all the incredible joy. Are you really going to tell me you want to wish that away? And our son? If you'd died, he never would have been. Now, maybe he'll die now, but if you asked him if he wanted ten years of life or nothing, you know what he'd say. And I know what it's like when you die. I'm boggled to think what could be worse."
Her anger bled away, her eyes and her voice gentle. "I'm sorry, Ro. I'm so sorry you don't have time to grieve properly. But you can lie around moaning about how unfair it is, and whose fault it is, or you can get off your arse and try to fix it." She shrugged, a small smile playing about her lips. "You've never taken the easy route before."
A sharp bark of laughter cut through the dark, “Joy from Pain… I should be the most joyful bastard who ever walked the universe.” He took a step forward and formed a ball of handfire, letting it bobble above their heads. Silent, he studied the redhead for a moment, and cupped her face with callused hands. “If you think I’ve never taken the easy route before… then you don’t know me at all Ghet.”
A rueful smile flickered across his face, “If you’ve come to shame me out of my drunken rage… have mercy and leave me to it. It’s all I have left. I’ve lost you all… one by one. I’ll save my people if I can, but I’m done with this. This feeling that never quite leaves, that eats me apart every time I look at Thorn… or you.”
She frowned slightly, looking up at him. "Me? You never look at me. You've barely seen me for two years. You've made it perfectly clear you can't raise so much as 'respect' for me any more. How can I possibly still be hurting you?"
She knew she should probably step away from his touch, but she simply stood, letting him look at her. She wasn't hiding anything from him. "I used to know you better than you knew yourself. You said so. And maybe I don't any more, but I really don't think your judgment's all that clear right now. You're one of the best men I know, and that will never change. Your strength, your courage, your honour... I've never seen anyone try so hard to do the right thing, and against such odds.
"I didn't come here to take away your rage. I didn't come here to yell at you. I came here so you could talk, and you are. And if I just have to sit here and make sure you don't hurt yourself too badly, and hold your head when you puke and make sure you pass out somewhere safe, then that's what I'll do. You haven't lost me, not quite. You're stuck with me, at least for now."
“Is that what you think?” For a moment, he leaned his forehead against hers, then drew back just as quickly, pulling his hands away. “Ghet… don’t tell me you’ve never hurt anyone in the name of love, even if you loved them too. I know better. Sometimes you have to make a choice, or you lose everything… and sometimes it doesn’t matter in the end anyway.”
Turning away from her he leaned against the wall, stroking the stone with his index finger for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. “I don’t deserve the attention… you should go back to Galain. He is probably freaking smooth out at the moment.”
Ghet reached up and stroked his arm gently. "I can't see into your heart any more, Ro," she said quietly. "What am I supposed to think?" She shook her head. "Galain knows exactly where I am. Well, no, he knows I'm with you. And he knows that if I didn't need to be here, I wouldn't be me. Even when he doesn't agree with me, he respects my decisions."
She leaned her head on his shoulder. She was tired, and tired of fighting. "Ro, you think I don't know? I hurt you, so much. I spent years pretending I felt less for you than I did, because I thought it was for the best. It took me so long to see... and even now, I don't know what the right thing to do was. Losing your friendship has hurt me, so much." Her sadness wove out, so much regret and silent grief for what had been lost. "And perhaps that's what I deserve, for what I did to you."
The half-elf pressed thumb and forefinger to his eyes, the canted edges crinkling as he struggled to get hold of himself. A deep, shuddering breath betrayed his surrender to it and he turned in place, drawing Ghet into a tight embrace.
“You have never lost my friendship Ghettie… not ever. Resentment I’ll admit to, but I could never stop loving you.”
She shook in his arms, a huge child-like sob tearing out of her. Her tears leaked onto his chest, part of her strangely bitterly glad that they'd made it to this point, no matter what the price had been. "I missed you, I missed you so much. Even when I saw you, I didn't know who you were. It was like a stranger in your body..." She choked, hiccuped, and then she laughed, with an odd edge to it. "Look at me, I'm a mess. You shouldn't be comforting me, that's stupid. Just, gods, let me hold you." She managed to raise her eyes again, her face red and tear-streaked. "No more lies. I told you, I'd love you forever."
“I know,” he said gently, “and I wish that made things easier.” A large thumb ran over her soft cheekbone, brushing away a tear. “I’m sorry… I wish things could have been different somehow. Everything is such a mess, and it has been for so long.” He let his forehead rest against hers again, “No more lies… How can you even stand it when I touch you? I’m so sorry… for so much.”
Ghet gave a short, high-pitched laugh. "That's really not the problem. I love it when you touch me. Please, don't worry about me." She bit her lip, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent. The brandy just made it more familiar, if anything. "I don't want to lose this again. I couldn't stand it. I guess..." She sighed. "You do what you need to. You need to find your way out of this, and that's what matters. Whatever it takes."
For a moment, a low rumbling purr shook Ro’s chest and he growled softly, turning his head so that his nose brushed her damp cheek. “I… am feeling very conflicted… and very drunk right now,” he managed to choke out. “I’m going to pull back now… not because I really want to, but because in about five seconds I’ll be heading down a road that I can’t live with. I couldn’t before, and I certainly can’t now.”
Ghet inhaled sharply, and shook her head, releasing her grip on him. In spite of everything they'd said, she hadn't expected that. "Ohhh no. You're not using me to feel all better and then dropping me again and going back to your wife. I mean 'feel all better' in the temporary sense of course, followed by extended anguish and self-recrimination." She leaned back against the wall, flushed. The very fact that he could admit to feeling that way, that he still might want her, that if she wasn't a married married married woman... just breathing was becoming tricky. "Sorry. I know you wouldn't, any more than I would. Or any less. You planning to keep that brandy all to yourself?"
Y’Roden gave her a long look, one that said a lot of things. “There were a few truths in those words… and a few misconceptions.” He held out a bottle of Brandy and smiled, “Thanks… for coming… here I mean.” He lifted the second bottle and leaned back against the wall.
“Did you hear that?”
Ghet shared his look, long and searching. It was pretty simple for her. She didn't want Ro to reconcile with his wife, so until she knew more, she was going to assume that he would. Same tactic she'd taken with Galain and An'Thaya. She took the bottle and made herself comfortable, then she laughed, a warm, rich sound, full of mischief. "Oh, it's a pleasure, always. Hear what, sorry? I was deafened by you saying 'thank you'." She frowned slightly. "Why are you here, anyway?"
“I…” he paused, this time definitely hearing a distinct click… and then a whirring noise. “Thaaaaaaaaaaaat!” The floor beneath them suddenly yawned open, and physics being what they are, Ro hit the stairs first, cursing wildly as he caught a Ghet full force on the chest and several sharp edged stairs to the spine before coming to a jarring stop.
“Dammit woman, stop falling for me. I’m a married man for Gods sake.”
Ghet gasped her breath back, laughing hysterically. "You know, there are two reasons I know you didn't plan that. One, I spilt alcohol. And two, we both know I should have been on the bottom. You S'Heans and your secret passages." She lifted herself up on her elbows and grinned down into his face, the sense of old times so strong it threatened to swamp her. "And my current husband was a married man when I first bounced him off a mattress. It's not a road you want to be going down, that one. Oh! I guess you want me to get off you." Reluctantly, she pulled herself to her feet and looked around. "Well, it's dark."
“Do I have to answer any of those questions?” he asked, then gave her a horrified look, “You spilled Brandy? Sacrilege! I think I may have broken a rib… damn that’s… good… yeah… really good.” With a grunt he rolled on his side and brought the little ball of S’Hean fire down into… wherever it was they were.
“Yeah… we have a terrible fascination for passages,” he murmured, blinking slightly as a million points of light shone back at them from the depths of the room. “What the hell?”
"You dropped me down a flight of stairs!" Ghet protested. "Mitigating circumstances! You're lucky I didn't break the bottle. You broke a rib?" She rolled her eyes, grinning. "Sicko. I'm astonished you can still feel pain."
She looked around, dazzled by the lights for a moment. "Crystals? Are they crystals? My gods... how many are there?"
“How did I drop you down the stairs? I was on the bottom, it is impossible to drop someone when you are on the bottom,” Ro pointed out, “I could throw you from the bottom, bounce you from the bottom… let’s not continue with that train of thought. Pain? I can feel pain… I can feel a lot of things right now. Stimulants… I’m feeling… never mind. Crystals! Uh… lots.”
Scrabbling to his feet the half-elf shook his head to clear it and wobbled forward a step. Lifting one that was set on its own in the middle of an obsidian dais, he examined it a little more closely. Set in a paper-thin triangular piece of Elven steel, it was perfectly round and a brilliant shade of green.
“There are runes on it…”
Ghet turned back and grinned at him. Good gods. There was exactly one husband and absolutely nothing else stopping her bouncing him off the floor. "Okay, maybe you didn't drop me. Maybe you just went down... runes, you say? Do they say, 'please do not touch this crystal again'?" She joined him by the dais, leaning over to look more closely.
The S’Hean King managed to look pole-axed for a moment, his mind flipping word play around, “What was I doing? Going down? No wait, the crystal. Careful, it slips in there it’ll be a bugger to get out.” He leaned down a little closer, “Actually… it says… ‘Y’Roden… press here you idiot’.”
Ghet gawped. "It knows you? Wait, how do you tell the 'Y'Roden' rune from the 'idiot' rune? They look the same to me." She sniggered. "Go on, then."
Y’Roden’s mouth fell open and he shot her one of those looks, then shut it again before doing as the crystal instructed.
A soft green light illuminated the room, spanning out to fill all corners and form what in scientific terms, would be called a holographic image.
“Well it is about time,” the figure was standing with his back to them, the set to the shoulders familiar, as was the cascade of soft chestnut colored hair. The Elf turned to face them, brilliant emerald D’Riel eyes sparkling. “Did you get lost? Or were you so busy rolling around on the floor with whoever you brought with you it just took you a long time to bounce off the trigger? Don’t tell me you’re not late Y’Roden… you always are.”
The image of B’Rodyn D’Riel moved closer, then outstretched his arms, turning at the waist to indicate the chamber they stood in. “Welcome to the D’Riel Royal Archives. This place has been kept since the first of us took the throne. Here you will find memory crystals kept by every one of our monarchs throughout the ages. Malik knows how to create them, when it is time for you to begin your own archives.”
He paused and turned to face his Cousin again. “Obviously I died without an heir… Gwen and I tried for so long… Hopefully it wasn’t a horrible death, for her at least. She is such a gentle soul… the love of my life.” He smiled softly, “hopefully you’ve found out that that is the most important thing… and if you have, and knowing how far you have come already… you will make an excellent King. Good luck Cousin.”
Ghet turned, her arm slipping around Ro's waist, tears standing out in her eyes. She missed B'Rodyn and his gentle good-humour, and she'd hardly known him. She did manage to both blush and snigger, but his final words hurt, too. More than anything, she wanted Ro to be happy, and she knew from experience she couldn't do that. "He's right," she said quietly, "you are an excellent king." Her lips twisted briefly as she bit back what she'd been going to say. Even now, she wouldn't criticise Silverthorn to him, but she believed her to be no kind of queen. A queen did not put herself first at every turn.
But it was hitting her now, what a treasure trove they were standing in. Thousands of years of records, and somewhere in here... they might find an answer. "Okay, right now, I'd give a lot for an index."
Y’Roden had gone exceedingly pale, grief written on his features as the light from the crystal faded. “I’ll never be as good as he was,” the half-elf murmured, “he was… he was everything a S’Hean King should be… including pure blood S’Hean.”
The chestnut haired elf leaned heavily on the dais, his gaze traveling around the room and nodding when she mentioned an index. “So much to go through.” He was suddenly feeling quite sober, and his heart was sinking.
“I cut her loose, you know,” he said softly, “she was dying right in front of my eyes, so I cut her loose to save her life. She’ll never forgive me for it. I know you can’t stand her… but I do love her… I was just coming up short on ways to make it work… even before this happened. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Ghet sighed. "He had an awful lot of practise, you know. You're just starting out." She bit her lip. She hadn't known the exact circumstances before, and her heart ached for what it must have cost him. She wondered, too, if it came down to it and she went mad, if she could do the same for Galain. Cut him loose, save his mind. "I've got to be the worst person to be giving you advice right now. You've tried so hard... I don't understand her, I can't make sense of why she hates me so much. If I got a say, this is what I would say. Keep it simple. Be you. Who you really are. That was what she fell in love with. If that doesn't work, if she can't love you for who you are and not what she can make you..." She winced. She was going too far. "Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, love just isn't enough. We know that."
Ro managed a smile and canted his head to look down at her. “Yeah… we do.” He shrugged slightly, “Not so bad on the advice, you were honest, that is more than most can say.” He shook his head and set the crystal back on the dais. “It doesn’t matter now anyway… not really. Thorn is unforgiving, but not as much as whatever this damned disease is. I’ve nearly lost my sister… I’ve lost my wife in a completely different way… I’ve lost Rangers, and it will just keep happening until… or if, I can find the damn cause of it.”
Ghet smiled sadly. "I'm not so great at knowing when to shut up. Always honest though. No point in anything else. It does matter, though. It matters very much how you spend your last days. We don't know how fast it's progressing yet. You could have years."
She took his hand and raised it to her lips, thinking over what was running through her head, how and whether to say it. There was a deep underlying anger that his wife was just an extra problem, right when she should have been simply supporting him. Doing what was right. "Our son is back at Riker's going through gene maps, looking for clues. He doesn't think he's going to die, not for a second. He's scared for you, though, and he's scared for me. Everyone's more worried about everyone else than they are for themselves. Yes, you're right, and I'm not going to give you platitudes. It IS your responsibility more than anyone else's, because you're the king. No-one can share that with you, no matter how much they might want to. I just... I don't want to see you destroy yourself because you can't work a miracle. I'll tell you now, as a practical, realistic, intelligent woman with great breasts, I have hope. We can beat this. And you're going to work your arse off to find the answer, and you're going to take your stimulants like a good boy or Nurse will have to give you a paddling."
“I thought the idea was to get me to take them,” he shot back with a low chuckle. “With Thorn gone, that’ll be the only excitement I’ll be getting in the bedroom. Why can’t anyone pump me full of stimulants when I am having sex? Ok, well, maybe not during,” the half-elf paused, “Ok, during wouldn’t be so bad either…”
His fingers ran across a stack of crystals, “I suppose I should get to work on these. This is going to… well, yeah, it’s going to take awhile. Look at these… some of these haven’t been looked at in… forever.” Curiosity was starting to peak now, matching the drive to find a cure that was burning at the core of him.
For the first time, he was actually grateful that Ghet could no longer see into his soul. Despite Mira’s best efforts, it was frayed and worn, wounded. The galaxy moved along at a staggered rate, slow charges of Aethyr misfiring in its depths. Tearing Silverthorn out of himself had been closely akin to cutting out his own heart and the pain wasn’t ever going to go away. If he wasn’t careful, his own soul would kill him before the disease had a chance.
"I never noticed you needing stimulants while you were having sex. In fact, the phrase 'more than my life's worth' leaps to mind. Unless you've got all old and tired and jaded in the last... recently?" She didn't want to think about how long it had been. A lifetime ago. A touch away.
She moved to the shelves. She couldn't go too far away, because he had the light. "Okay, well, we can assume they were put in here in at least roughly chronological order. We need the older stuff I guess, from the times that were... lost." She shot a glance at him and winced. So much of S'Hea's history was bound up in his personal history.
Broader implications, past the immediate threat, were starting to hit her again. She was looking around the archive with something very close to lust. "Gods, Ro. An entirely untouched sociological archive, spanning tens of thousands of years... what do I have to do to get a research grant down here?"
“Just ask nicely?” he suggested with a smile, one that hadn’t quite left his face since her teasing comment. “Old and jaded,” he murmured, “maybe. Certainly tired… not that tired… I’m rambling. Damn… I blame Callan.”
He crossed over to her, running his fingers through B’Rodyn’s legacy. “True… so… we start working our way back. My Uncle Y’Ardyn reigned for thirty thousand years, not very long and we would know if anything of consequence happened during that time. Besides… well… Corin. So, we probably should start with my Grandfather Ry’Den’s reign and work our way back. Yes? According to the histories, what is left of them, and the Elders, I am the eighth D’Riel Monarch… but they have no idea how long… exactly, the D’Riels have held the throne.”
"Damn," Ghet said quietly, "nice just isn't my best suit. You blame Callan? Callan's been wearing you out? You had some massive change in proclivity you want to tell me about? In detail?"
The timescale dwarfed and swamped her. "We don't know how chatty they were either. If we end up wading through a million baby pictures... Still, the sooner we start, etc." She looked at him, with a rather odd expression, and shook her head. "This is SO not what I thought I was going to be doing today."
Ro choked out a laugh and grinned, “Uh, no. I mean; I like Callan, a lot, just… not in that way. I mean he rambles a lot, and it seems to be catching.”
Emerald eyes shifted to the side and one chestnut eyebrow lifted just slightly, “and what did you think you were going to be doing today? Did you bring a list? Giving all the stimulants and Brandy floating about, I’m rather curious to see what your devious little mind possibly could have derived.” He picked up a crystal and ran his fingers over the runes, “aside from the holding my head while I puke thing. I rather liked that idea, and you just label whatever area you consider ‘safe’ so I’ll know where to pass out when its time.”
Ghet laughed so hard she nearly dropped the crystal she'd picked up. "Your Majesty! What a thing to say! What makes you think I have a devious mind? Or any grasp of the concept of 'safe'? Damn, it's a fearful combination, isn't it?" She tightened her grip on the crystal. "I guess I would have to tell you where to pass out in advance, 'cause we all know I can't move you when you're inert." She eyed the bottle she'd put down on the shelves, shrugged, and picked it up.
Ro pressed the activator on the crystal, grabbed the bottle from her and took a long drink before handing it back. “Heeeey… lookie, its Grampa.”
Ghet settled back to watch. "We should have brought snacks."
“There are snacks upstairs,” he informed her, “the kitchen here is kept fully stocked, one never knows when the Royal family will need an emergency vacation.” He paused, listening to the deceased King speak about his daughter, and the decision to allow the marriage between her and the Human King, Derwin Modar. A twitch of a smile tugged at his lip as the image faded. “You know, it’s probably a hell of a lot more comfortable up there too. Why don’t we take a bunch of these up and go through them where there is food… and more booze.”
Ghet chuckled. "What, you don't like the big dark hole in the ground? Still. Food, more booze, history, charming, strapping company... that sounds like an offer too good to refuse. Let's load up then. I will be forced to take detailed notes of what we take and where we take it from. You knew I had terrible librarian tendencies, right?
“Really?” He was taking his shirt off, which had nothing to do with the sudden images of Librarian Ghet rolling around in his head. Well maybe it did, but he had a practical reason as well, besides that. “What? It was either my shirt or yours… though yours seems preformed for carrying things… Maybe I made the wrong choice,” he pondered as he started transferring crystals from the rack into his shirt.
“You know… these are obviously overlapped. Ry’Den wasn’t King when the decision was made for my Ammah to marry my Father. He stepped down long before that, just after his wife died.”
"Really?" Ghet said softly, "that's odd. Maybe it's not as systematic as we thought, then." She eyed his torso and resisted the temptation to slap herself in the face. That was quite the thing, yes it was. "There's more room in your shirt than mine, despite the shape thing. Of course, there'd be even more room in your pants." She'd run out of self-control at that point, at least as far as smart remarks went. "If we tied up the bottoms of the legs, we'd be able to get lots in there."
“You know… that is the first logical reason for pants I’ve ever heard,” the half-elf said in amazement. “But… no, I’d better keep them on. I’m drunk and liable to fall over, Gods knows where I’d land and we wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, would we.”
It was a very loaded sentence all the way around.
“Ready? To go upstairs I mean… I think I’ve packed as many as I can. Got anywhere we can stick a few?”
Ghet chuckled, took one last swig from the bottle and put the lid back on it, to prevent a reoccurance of the sacrilege thing. "We can always do another run later if we need to. If we can still walk later. There's probably something much more comfortable for you to pass out on up there, too. Not me. I'm not comfortable for sleeping on at all."
She looked down at herself. She was perfectly decently dressed, but there also obviously wasn't much spare space. "I'm constantly boggled by what people think the storage capacity of my cleavage is. It should be perfectly clear how much room there is down there." She shrugged, grabbed one more crystal off the shelf, and dropped it down her shirt, where it lodged. "There we go. Happy grampa."
“I hope they don’t need to breathe,” Ro commented as he staggered to his feet and hefted the crystals. “You bring the booze, I’ll carry the crystals. Ready? Ready… where did the stairs go? Oh hells…” Opening a portal he stepped through to the kitchen in the Castle above and set his shirt on the table.
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